I had the inclination to write with my left hand as a child.
But the teachers corrected me.
Told me it was wrong.
So they made me write with my right.
I learned my writing wasn’t the only thing left about me.
I carried this questioning of my nature through my youth.
And I’ve spent the rest of my life trying to be left again.
Because what They really told me was that I don’t have the right.
The right to—
be like this.
to feel this way.
to act how I do.
I’ve spent my whole life unlearning the right way.
For the glorious experience of getting to be wrong.
I may not have the right according to Them.
But that hasn’t stopped me yet.
Bethany Broughton | Barbourville